


The Penny Drops

by MeatballsAndMiracles



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26598412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeatballsAndMiracles/pseuds/MeatballsAndMiracles
Summary: A member of the council of thirteen receives an unwelcome call, and realises he has been betrayed.Random vignette spawned from a discord discussion.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	The Penny Drops

The Penny Drops

Council member Salrun sighed as his finger fumbled to hit the glowing red button on the Hologram projector. It was too early for this.

“This is Councillor Salrun. I have important affairs of empire to deal with, so this had better be important, Koror.” His tired voice spoke gruffly into the device as it struggled to establish a connection.

“We need reinforcements immediately, it’s, the Akarans! They’ve risen up!” A panicked voice yelled from the other end as the blurry image of Koror 472, otherwise known as Visser 42, began to appear, the background audio static fading to be replaced by the roars of what had to be a massive crowd.

“So, another host revolt. Put it down like the others, that what you’re there for.” Salrun spoke, rubbing his temple with his hand. His position had enough for him to be dealing with without having to hold the Palp of every Yeerk under his command like they were grubs fresh out of the nursery pool.

“It’s not a fucking revolt, it’s a full Kandrona – damned revolution! Half the fucking continent is up in arms!” Koror was practically screaming now as the background roar only seemed to intensify. “They’ve got Dracon rifles and cannons, they’ve even looted a few of out fighters, they- OH SHIT!”

His rant was interrupted by a sudden and unmistakable sound of a Dracon cannon firing, the blurry feed showing the red beam hitting uncomfortably close to Koror’s position.

It was a few seconds before Koror resumed his panicked message. “Our position is untenable, we’re pulling out! You hear me? Out!” He screeched. Salrun’s left eye twitched at that last statement.

“You will do no such thing. You are to hold your positions until reinforcements are dispatched, disobey and I will have you shot for treason, understand?” He ordered, his tone morphing from irritation to anger. “Losing Earth was bad enough; I will not lose more of my domain to this anarchy! I will not have fucking Tessar become the image of stability on the council, whilst we’re stuck with our trousers down!” He ranted. But Koror barely seemed to acknowledge it.

“We’re getting on the shuttles now. Akar is lost. I repeat, Akar is lost! Sonta was right, should have listened…” He trailed of.

Now Salrun’s right eye was twitching as well. “Get on that shuttle and I will have your entire hatchery fed to the Taxxons alive!” He screamed, but it was impotent. The Visser turned, almost in a daze and walked away, the signal cutting out a moment later. Leaving the stunned councillor alone.

Sonta. _Sonta_. That slimy bastard. That “loyal aide”.

That silver tongued, smug prick. Who’d convinced him of a tactical withdrawal from Earth, his greatest prize. It was a temporary setback, he’d said. We will retake it in due time, he’d said. Our resources are needed elsewhere, he’d said.

Sonta. Who’d convinced him of the need to decentralise his fiefdom. Sonta. Who he’d let implement those ridiculous host policies in the name of “efficiency”. Sonta.

That liberal. That progressive. That _reformer_.

That Andalite loving, Kandrona addicted, Host sympathising, YPM praising bastard!

The anger washed over him in waves, turning to more and more intense feelings of rage before he looked up, and saw his reflection in the metal dish of the projector. His Human hosts face. The one Sonta had convinced him to take.

He reached down and fumbled in rage with the drawer of his desk, wrenching it open and grabbing the pistol kept within before standing up and storming out of his office, pure murder now on his face. Someone was going to die for this, he would make sure of it.

“Sonta? Sonta! Get out here now! Get out here so I can kill you, you rat-faced fucking traitor! You host sympathising bastard!” He screamed like a madman as he marched down the halls, confused and cautious guards taking notice and following behind him.


End file.
